Roger's Brilliant Plan
by stay.perfectly.still
Summary: Drastic times call for drastic measures; although being shoved inside a small white room never does make anyone happy. Especially when those people are Matt, Near, and Mello.


**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **I had this oneshot floating around on my computer, and finally decided to finish it. It also kind of incorporates my other story, revolving around Mail's life. Tell me what you think. ;)

**WARNING: **Contains swearing - courtesy of Mello.

Disclaimer: No, I don't own Death Note, or it's characters. Blah, blah, blah.

* * *

"You can't expect us to just get along with each other! Get me outta here!" Mello pounded against the door angrily, before starting to kick it.

"I didn't want it this way either, Mello. But you're being ridiculous. You're all staying in there until you can behave like civilized children." The monotonous voice responded back, and the blonde's stormy eyes narrowed into a furious glare.

"Fuck you! I'll fucking break that camera.." He growled, before attempting to jump and grab the camera.

"Hey, Mel. You know well enough that the camera's too damn high." A lazy, yet annoyed voice stated. Mello's head, whipped around, his eyes flashing dangerously.

"Shut the fuck up." He snarled, before resuming his violent kicks towards the door. Mail let out a sigh knowing the blond was too stubborn for his own good. Unamused, he scanned the room. It was large enough for the all of them, he noted, yet at the same time--it _wasn't_. The blinding white walls, and white tiled floor made it seem smaller than it actually was. He couldn't help but feel a bit claustrophobic. The feeling of being suffocated didn't exactly appeal to him. However, he knew if he continued to think about this further, it would only result in him banging against the door too.

Instead, his green eyes locked onto the small boy huddled in the corner. _Near_, that's what his name was. He looked sort of like an angel, with his white hair, and white clothes radiating off off his surroundings. The only thing that contrasted him from the walls were his haunting dark eyes..

To be honest, the kid creeped him out. Mail couldn't read him like the others, but the kid could stare right through him. Which was even more unnerving.

"**DAMMIT!**You open this door, or you better run like hell when I get out myself, you little--" Mail smirked. Mello sure did have a great vocabulary, but at the same time, it was starting to hurt his head a bit. Especially since the boy hadn't stop his continuous tantrums, and cussing for..something that seemed longer than just five minutes.

"Sit your ass down. You know that door's made out of steel. Plus, you're giving me a headache." Mail demanded irritably. Mello backed away from the door, turning to him. He looked as if he were about to kill someone. Had Mail cared, he might've took some precautions.

"Go fuck yourself, Matt. I told you to keep your mouth shut." The smirk had disappeared, instead being replaced with a frown. Mail could feel Near stir slightly.

"My name is Mail. **Mail Jeevas.**" He retorted, his green eyes not liking the way Mello was sneering at him.

"I don't care. What type of name is Mail anyway? Was your mother on crack or something?" Mail's green eyes widened.

Mello was an asshole, everyone knew that.

But to even state the words, 'Mother' and 'Father' was like taboo around here. It was common courtesy to avoid such subjects. Everyone knew that.

"What the fuck did you just say?" Mail stood up, his body shaking slightly. He was going to punch that fucker in the face. Mello smirked.

"You heard me." Mail stepped closer.

"She wasn't on anything, you asshole. But I'm not so sure about your mother. Didn't she kill or herself or something?" Mail snarled, before allowing a nasty grin to cross his features. "Oh wait. That was your dad, wasn't it?"

**WHAM!**

"Fucking **hell..!**" Mail stumbled back, holding his nose. The white tiles on the floor was now covered with droplets of crimson blood. But knowing Mello, he wasn't done yet.

-- N --

Near stiffened at his corner, a little apprehensive upon seeing blood. This was not going to turn out well, at all.

"That's enough." He announced, as loud as he could to the others. Perhaps they would listen to logic and rationality. After all, they had to have _some_intelligence in their minds. "Please restrain yourselves. Like you two, I do not wish to be here more than necessary." Well, that did it. Mello's attention had temporarily been distracted from beating Matt lifeless. Near blinked. The blond's blue hues looked dangerous; especially the way they flickered back and forth. Or how they were slowly becoming more clearer, as Mello stepped closer.

Near blinked again. Like he said, this wasn't going to turn out very good.

Judging from Mello's inability to stop staring at his head and twitching fingers, Near predicted that he would most likely attempt to strangle him. Being small, he could easily avoid this attack. Perhaps Roger would finally realize the screams of fury from Mello, and would help sort out this predicament with a better method.

For the moment however, Near decided to focus on escaping Mello's attacks. He had an idea how this was going to turn out. First, Mello was going to distract him by using his colorful vocabulary.

-- MK --

Mello growled, his hatred for the albino child clearly shown on his face.

"Mind your own god damned business, Near." He hissed, before stepping closer to the younger child. Near merely stared up at him, with blank dark eyes, and an unreadable expression. It only agitated Mello further. Those damn eyes. Those fucking eyes.

Hell, he was going to have to stare at those until God knows how long. Most likely hours.

Mello didn't know if he could even last that long without ripping his hair out. He could hardly stand _breathing _the same air as the albino. Now he had to deal with the brat in a trapped room. Ah, it wouldn't be long now. A growl escaped his lips like a provoked animal, and it was only then his clever mind formulated a new plan.

_Beat the kid shitless. _Now granted, the plan wasn't completely full-proof. But it was bound to get Near out of the place, one way or another. Either Roger would have some assistants rush in and take an injured Near away, or Mello would've killed the top genius of Wammy. Excellent.

"Mello, I'd like for you to reconsider your actions." Near stated, his eyes showing no fear, nor even the slightest interest as he stared up at Mello. His voice still held a polite, respectable tone to it. It was carefully said, as if any wrong word would send Mello over the edge. "There was nothing offensive about the things I've said. If you would just sit down and pretend to be normal for fifteen minutes, perhaps we can convince Roger to let us out of here."

Mello glared.

And continued glaring.

-- MJ --

"Please restrain yourselves. Like you two, I do not wish to be here more than necessary."

Mail held his nose, profanity spewing out of his mouth as his green eyes narrowed into a glare. That fucking hurt. But Near was right, as usual; punching each other lifeless would only result in more penalties. He didn't want to be shipped off somewhere, or have his computer classes taken away from him. Dammit, he had one brilliant program wiring itself in his mind already. He'd be damned if it slipped away.

"Mello, I'd like for you to reconsider your actions." Still angry, Mail's green eyes drifted towards the albino child. Then, it drifted off towards Mello, who was only a couple feet away from Near, a sadistic smile of glee on his features. The blonde stood out completely against the white walls, with his black leather and angry demeanor.

Mail wiped his nose, before realizing that the idiot had gotten blood all over his vest.

"Damn, Mello. Didn't your mother ever teach you any manners?" It was a bad mistake on his part. A terribly bad mistake. But it couldn't be helped; Mail was angry, he hated being away from his computer, and for the most part - Mello started it.

The blonde whirled around, nearly knocking over Near in the process. Mail froze, noticing that might've gone overboard this time. Parents were touchy subjects. In fact, the way Mello was staring at him now made him regret the mistake by the second. It looked as if he were ready to pull a gun and blow Mail's brains out.

"My mother was a controlling bitch that deserved to die alongside with my bastard of a father." It unnerved Mail the way Mello said it. He wasn't exactly angry, or at least it didn't seem like it. Instead, his eyes had become cold. It almost looked as if he were out of it, but Mail knew better. The fact that Mello had made the transition of angry to emotionless in a matter of two seconds scared the living shit out of him. It was like the blonde had gone beyond angry, just to a point where he'd stare you down.

It reminded him of his parents. A sigh escaped his lips.

"They had no time for me either." He sympathized, while at the same time wondering where that confession came from. "Both of them hated their lives but didn't show it." Then with a barely audible voice he whispered, "I miss them."

It took a bit to process what he, himself, had just said. The words just found it's way out of his mouth. He winced.

But the expected reply of, 'Oh poor baby - I bet you had it _real_bad,' never came. He blinked, watching Mello's unreadable gaze.

"My mother and father were killed by criminals." Upon hearing the quiet voice, Mail turned his head. Mimicking Mello, the albino also had an impassive face, though Mail had never seen him with anything otherwise. He had always wondered how screwed up the kid us - so unfeeling towards the world. But upon hearing this new information..

Maybe it just hurt the kid too much to feel. No wonder why he was number one at Wammy's. In a way, Mail felt sorry for him. But if Mello ever caught him saying this, he'd probably do more than just punch him in the face.

A scoff brought Mail out of his thoughts. Tilting his head upwards, he realized whom it had come from--Mello. What was worst was that the guy had the nerve to have a nasty sneer on his face. It was a new kind of disrespect that wasn't tolerated by anyone. In fact, Mail was rather disgusted at the blonde's crude behavior. He had always known the guy was an asshole, but come on, laughing at a kid who had his parents killed? Even he had to admit, that was harsh. Near never did anything to provoke Mello, besides just being better, and smarter than he was.

"Oh yeah? My father killed himself in order to get away from me and that bitch." He could've sworn that Mello was consoling Near. "He decided Hell was more loving than we'd ever be."

There was a smirk on his face, as he chuckled. A heartless, eerie chuckle. "And now I'm stuck here. In a room that's so white it's burning my eyes. And with who? A computer freak and you, someone who matches the goddamn walls, talking about how fucked life can be."

Mail grinned, despite being insulted with 'computer freak'. He remembered what it had been like; living the high-class life with his parents who probably loved their work more than they loved him. It was kind of funny, how different your life can change in a few months. He remembered his large house, his schooling, and his distaste of technology. Now look at him; sharing an orphanage with over a hundred other 'genius' kids, being educated on things that couldn't be comprehended by the average human being, and being completely and utterly obsessed with electronics.

No, it wasn't 'kind of funny' -- it was fucking hilarious. He started to laugh - _really_ laugh. For once in a year and a half.

In fact, he laughed so much that he started choking. _So_much that he was on the ground, tears running down on the sides of his cheeks. He didn't know what he was laughing about. The fact that he was stuck with Mello and Near, and how those two names seem to contradict each other. Or the fact that this was what his life had succumbed to. Or maybe he was laughing because of how Near and Mello were stuck in the same room as him.

But whatever it was didn't really matter. It dawned on him that he was content. No longer angry or sad, or even happy. He was just _alright_. Wammy's was alright. So was Mello and Near. _They _were alright. Life wasn't horrible, it was just okay. And just okay was good enough for him. Because it meant that he was okay too.

His laughing came to a halt, as the intercom above them let out a long beep. Roger's voice came on the line.

"An hour and a half. Now that wasn't so bad." He murmured, before the steel door was unlocked. Mail glanced at Mello, before staring at the exit. It seemed almost too good to be true - neither of them had killed each other. There were small attempts and murderous thoughts, but nothing fatal. They had actually _survived. _

(And maybe bonded a little bit too - but Mail would rather be asphyxiated and mangled up before he'd admit that he had actually bonded with some brooding, angry, chocolate loving freak, and some creepy little albino.)

Nevertheless, it didn't stop Mail from sharing a quick, smug glance with Mello, while watching Near start to hobble his way out, teddy bear in hand.

Mail smirked. Mello's eyes seemed to radiate with sadistic intentions. Then with a quick gesture, they both simultaneously stuck their legs out - with careful precision - right as Near had lifted up one of his feet.

_**WHAM.**_

Actually, it was more like a soft 'thump', but Mail liked to think of it as really dramatic. Then, grinning as he had never grinned before, he took off right after Mello, laughing maniacally.

.

.

.

- FIN


End file.
